Grail War Reborn
by EvanescentDevotion
Summary: After numerous, corrupted Holy Grail wars, the magic world is ready to see another with hope. Charlotte Vlahsta, a young Lady of the Norweigan crown, has the burden of protecting the status of the royal family. Though her life has revolved around this moment, she is still unprepared and naive. Despite her above-average skills, her light dulls in comparison to her fearsome rivals.
1. Chapter 1: The Burden of A Royal

Chapter 1: The Burden Of a Royal

The light from the windows cascaded upon the marble floors of the colossal chapel. The colors and shapes danced in the warmth of the sun, making light particles of mana swirl weightlessly in its glow. She wanted to speak, but the words hitched in the back of her throat as she clasped her hands tighter near her face. Brown, doe eyes, filled with curiosity and intimidation, gazed upon the figure standing before her.

His back turned, she could tell he was a well trained warrior, given the muscle tone that was visible through his teal shirt, and the minimal armor being plating on one shoulder. In one hand, he held a crimson lance, drawn close at his side. The other hand held a shorter spear, its golden tip gleaming in the glow of the afternoon sun. She didn't know what kind of face could lie on the other side of his slicked, raven black hair, but she hoped desperately that it was a kind one. Stuttering, her mouth finally allowed her to address him.

"U-um, L-Lancer?"

Her voice was soft and high pitched for an adult, the uncertainty clear despite her façade of a confident stance. With shoulders lifted stiffly and her chin raised, she tried to muster a brave look to the best of her ability. Her fists now clenched tightly at her sides, the shaking still refused to cease completely. This, she thought, was inevitable. She was in the presence of a legendary hero after all. 

The figure turned his head slightly, so that she still couldn't make out any features. It seemed until just then, this summoned warrior hadn't even noticed her before she spoke. Feeling what little confidence she had fade, the young woman swallowed at having such little presence. Still, she forced herself to speak and take command.

"I am Lady Charlotte Vlahsta of the Norweigan crown," her voice shook slightly, but her face remained determined, "and I am your Master!"

Once again, she was brought to silence, still keeping up appearances and waiting for her Servant's response. As his face was slowly revealed with the turn of his body, Charlotte became suddenly aware of two things. One quelled all her fears, and embraced her in pure comfort. The other, ripped apart that security, twisting it into a realization she had prayed would never reach her.

A kind smile plastered the warrior's face as he looked upon his master with gentle, orange eyes that looked directly into hers. This look sent shudders into her very core, stirring all kinds of emotions Charlotte couldn't quite grasp. It seemed just his presence had taken the air from her lungs, as she was unable to speak and left merely to her thoughts.

"My Lady, my Master," kneeling, the summoned legend bowed at her feet, placing both lances to the floor at his sides, "I, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, am here to serve you in the Holy Grail War."

Charlotte already knew this, but somehow she wanted to reverse it. Despite his chivalry and promise, which was the first came to her and comforted her, the second aspect of her servant still slithered threateningly inside her consciousness. The mark below his eye, the very one she had been warned about, was something she thought her willpower could simply defeat. She was terribly wrong.

Grabbing her hand, his gaze once again met her eyes. Quickly, she looked away; face pink with a soft flush. On one knee now, he gently led her hand to his lips, where he placed a feathery kiss upon her knuckles.

"It is an honor to serve a Master with such a status."

This statement pained her as her mouth twisted into a solemn smile. More than having her status be a deciding factor in the honor of serving her, a far worse pain throbbed deep in her chest. The effect of the very mark upon his face, something as unavoidable as her status, has been the cause of her growing fear and guilt. It had only been a few seconds since she had seen his face, but even now it was completely clear.

She had fallen in love with him.

"Welcome," she spoke, trying her best to conceal her inner turmoil, "Lancer."

Grinning, Lancer was oblivious to how Charlotte felt. His beaming face only put salt in the wound, as his beauty enraptured her farther. Now more than ever, she wanted to touch that face, and it disgusted her. How could she be so unbelievably selfish? To love him for something like this simply wasn't fair. It was the upmost cruelty to impose this burning affection, so she kept it under lock and key. Noticing her darkening visage, Lancer stood as Charlotte watched him with surprise.

"You needn't fear this War, m'lady," Lancer gave a reassuring look, "because I will always be there to protect you."

"As is your place."

This voice wasn't Charlotte's. Rather, it was that of a man. Both Master and servant turned their focus to the pews that lay behind them. There, a man with reddish brown hair, similar to Charlottes, and a beard, looked upon the two with a steely glare. He looked older with deep creases on his face, and thick streaks of grey on the sides of his head. His attire looked somewhat military, and his arms were tightly crossed behind his back. He seemed to radiate and intense aura.

"Father, please."

Charlotte looked upon the man who she called 'father', with a pleading look. Lancer looked back and forth between the two in silent shock. The woman who stood before him was petite with a doll-like face, and her father was large and brooding. It seemed impossible that the two could ever be related, let alone father and daughter.

"F-father?"

Somehow, the words Lancer had been thinking, slipped out unexpectedly. The father furrowed his brow, making his already menacing aura that much worse. While Charlotte flinched, Lancer simply looked uneasy. He wasn't a stranger to this kind of man, but he still couldn't help but be moved by the atmosphere that surrounded them. They were often the fiercest warriors.

"Yes, I am Duke Albin of the Norweigan crown," he barked sternly, "and a globally renowned mage."

Charlotte, still left with a bit of unease, managed to look a little defiant.

"Father, we mustn't throw titles around, as if we'll be the ones fighting Lancer."

A bit surprised by this comeback, Albin's face became more lax as he raised his eyebrows in surprise. It looked as if he didn't know he was coming on too strong, and cleared his throat. Perhaps now he would try again to become familiar the proper way.

"You must excuse me if you thought me to be threatening, Charlotte."

Completely ignoring an apology to Lancer, Charlotte became frustrated at his rudeness. She knew he wanted to be protective, but this was the very spirit summoned to do just that. Before she could say anything, her father continued.

"This War is, however, to be taken with the upmost seriousness. For you see, Lancer, not only will you fight for Lady Charlotte, you will fight for the honor, and dignity of the Norwegian crown."

Albin's stern expression returned, and his icy gaze at full intensity. Raising his chin, he was looking at master as well as servant.

"This Kingdom's very status in the magic world rests solely in the both of your hands."


	2. Chapter 2: A Master's Vow

Chapter 2: A Master's Vow

The resonating sound of light footsteps echoed throughout the manor's large foyer, clicking of heeled boots creating a metronome as Charlotte paced back and forth. Her father's words bounced around in her mind on a continuous loop that she couldn't escape. It's not as if he hadn't said these words numerous times before, but it was the first time that the meaning had finally sunk in. The reputation of the royal family was at risk…

Lancer eyed his master curiously through long, dark lashes. He wasn't quite sure why she started pacing like this, but he figured it was because of the responsibility entrusted to her. With a deep sigh, Lancer looked up at the ceiling with a somber expression, wondering how he could comfort his master. The two had just met, so it wasn't like he had an idea of what could give her some peace. Then, putting a fist into his outstretched palm, Lancer came up with an idea.

"Master," Lancer perked up, smiling widely, his voice causing Charlotte to flinch in surprise, "let's stop walking back and forth for a second."

Looking back at her servant, it was clear from the look on her face that Charlotte hadn't realized she had been lost in her thoughts for quite some time. A slight blush of embarrassment dusting her cheeks, she rubbed the back of her head apologetically.

"S-sorry," she bowed her head quickly, "my fidgeting must be a little annoying by now."

Waving his hands as if to dismiss the idea, Lancer became nervous that his comment might have worsened his master's already uneasy disposition.

"N-nothing like that master," Lancer tried his best to give an encouraging look, "I-I was just going to suggest we do something fun."

Charlotte looked up from her bow, her mouth bent in a slight frown and eyes wide. She was clearly confused, and certainly hadn't anticipated Lancer to be interested in simple fun.

"W-what did you have in mind?"

Looking at him now, Charlotte's eyes couldn't help but wander from his perfectly structure brow, chiseled jaw line and then to… his inviting, soft looking lips… No! She had to stop these thoughts from taking over her sensible mind. Closing her eyes tight and shaking her head, she tried to erase the fantasies that kept trying to form in her head.

"Well," Lancer laughed lightly, not understanding his master's sudden actions, "what do you like to do when you have time to yourself, master?"

"M-me?" Charlotte pointed to herself, opening her eyes wide again, the corner of her mouth twitched, forming a nervous half-smile.

"Who else, Master Charlotte?" Lancer let out a hearty laugh, feeling quite amused by his master's bewilderment to his interest. He was starting to enjoy her little reactions to things.

For some reason, Charlotte's mind became blank. Looking at her beaming servant, she was oddly vacant of any knowledge of herself. The first thought that came into her head was ballet, but she couldn't show him that. If he watched her dance, she would be so embarrassed that she would likely fall over. Just thinking about his eyes on her frame while she performs such an intimate dance, made the back of her ears grow hot.

"….Master?" Lancer cocked his head to the side, giving a look that reminded Charlotte of a concerned puppy dog.

"Ah," Charlotte came to her senses, "s-sorry!"

Thinking again, and this time with a little more concentration, Charlotte figured her next choice of fun, reading, wouldn't be something the two of them could enjoy together. Lancer wouldn't be able to read the language in most of her favorites. They were all ancient, Nordic texts.

"I-I like apples!"

Immediately after Charlotte blurted this out, she covered her mouth tightly with both hands. Turning scarlet, she had let her thoughts get ahead of her, and she ended up saying something completely idiotic. She had to recover quickly.

"I… like to watch the apples as they ripen." She gave a sheepish smile, trying to cover up her obvious hiccup. "We have a tree just in front of the manor, and I often doze off in the branches."

Lancer couldn't help but turn his head to the side, trying his best not to laugh as Charlotte made a triumphant expression. Charlotte had thought him fooled, but he was far from it. Instead, he was rather charmed by her innocent attempt, to rebound after such a random outburst of nonsense. What a peculiar master she had turned out to be.

"Would you mind showing me this tree, Master Charlotte?" Lancer lowered his head as he said this, looking up at his master expectantly.

Something about this expression made Charlotte's heart skip a beat, and she couldn't refuse him if she even tried. Sighing with a smile in resignation, Charlotte gave her servant a swift nod.

"Of course!" She grinned at Lancer's look of growing excitement. "What kind of hostess would I be if I didn't show you the whole property?"

Outside, the cool fall air gently brushed upon Charlotte and Lancer's bodies, wrapping them in the scent of colorful, autumn leaves. Charlotte, who had put on a light, navy sweater over her mint dress shirt, was well prepared for the brisk wind that lay waiting outside. Lancer on the other hand, shivered slightly at the sudden coolness. Out of the corner of her eye, Charlotte noticed Lancer's discomfort.

"You're cold," her eyes were heavy with concern as she gently touched Lancer's arm, "we should get you one of father's coats."

"I am perfectly fine, my Lady," shaking his head, Lancer replied cheerfully, "I'm hardly worthy of borrowing Lord Albin's property."

Charlotte looked at her servant with sad eyes. She didn't like that he felt such subservience to the point where he would catch a cold, simply because he felt unworthy of a Lord's coat.

"Even so…"

She wanted to tell him it was alright, but he came from a different time and she was aware of that fact. He likely wouldn't be convinced otherwise. Looking down, Charlotte lifted her hand from Lancer's shoulder and gripped a key necklace that dangled around her neck.

"I'm honored to have you worry about me," Lancer put a hand to his heart, bowing respectfully, "but this is truly nothing to a knight."

Charlotte nodded, feigning a look of approval. She didn't want to burden Lancer with her petty feelings, so she would play his game. Besides, he was right about one thing. To forget Lancer was a knight in his previous life, was to seriously underestimate him.

"I take your word for it," Charlotte beamed, tilting her head to the side, "but don't blame me if you catch a cold."

Lancer raised an eyebrow, unable to hold back a snicker. He liked it so much better when his master was happy, as her happiness was undeniably contagious. Everything about her, even her happiness, had an essence of grace and innocence- a true lady.

"Now, just standing beneath the tree is no fun," Charlotte said, grabbing a low-lying branch and steadying a laced boot on the large trunk, "it's within the leaves that one can really enjoy themselves."

"Please, my Master," Lancer hurriedly made his way to her side, two outstretched hands ready to support her at any second, "allow me to assist you."

Looking at his worried face, Charlotte couldn't help but giggle. He was being a bit overprotective, but that was to be expected of a servant. Such a face warranted the urge to tease him a bit.

"Now Lancer," she began, taking on an air of sophistication, "we simply cannot have that, now can we?"

With his brow furrowed and mouth in a slight frown, it was easy to see that Lancer was confused. Charlotte couldn't help but find this adorable, but that wouldn't stop her from continuing with her ruse.

"Just look at what I'm wearing, and what position you would have to be in to assist me."

She pointed to him, trying her best not to burst out into laughter, as Lancer's face became tense in thought.

Looking her up and down, Lancer took note of everything his master wore. Knee-high, lace boots were sturdy, and wouldn't warrant any problems. He saw no problems with her knit sweater, or her dress shirt and navy sailor tie that rest under the collar. Her translucent, black stockings came mid-thigh, so they didn't threaten to slip into her boot uncomfortably either. Then he realized, hoisted with suspenders, Charlotte was wearing a high-rise skirt with buttons on the band. If he lifted her up he would…

"M-my sincerest apologies m'lady," Lancer dipped his head in apology, "I-I wasn't thinking properly!"

'_Ah, I wonder if he's blushing right now_', Charlotte couldn't help but think to herself, '_he really is too charming…_' Just then her face became serious upon realizing what kind of feelings she was allowing to surface again.

Picking up where she had started, Charlotte pulled herself farther up the tree, and with another tug, she was able to stand securely the branch she used as a grip earlier. Putting her hands on her hips, she didn't want Lancer to notice she was feeling any different.

"You are pardoned," she lifted her chin to jokingly imitate haughtiness, "but I ask you to have some faith in me to do things myself."

"Ah, so that's what this was all about." Lancer laughed as he raised his head again, shoulders finally relaxing in relief.

Turning back to the tree, Charlotte began to climb higher and higher until Lancer couldn't see her clearly through leaves. Feeling a little anxious he lifted himself onto the lower branch and began looking around the brush to see where his master went.

"M-master," Lancer climbed to another branch, hoping it would help his situation, "I can't see where you went off to…"

"Here."

Charlotte's soft voice lulled from a few branches higher. Her short hair hanging down in delicate curls, the light framed her silhouette and created a somewhat alluring image. Stretching a dainty, pale hand, Charlotte caused something to grow in Lancer's chest. Somehow this scene seemed familiar, like a ghost that clung to his psyche just out of sight.

"Charlotte, you…" Lancer muttered this so quietly, that it was nearly inaudible.

Blushing deeply, Charlotte was able to recognize her name. In addition to that intense look he was giving her, she felt like she was going to melt. Realizing he was staring, Lancer looked away.

"Sorry," his voice returned to normal, "I was lost in my thoughts for a minute there…"

"I-It's ok…" It took all of Charlotte's willpower not to squeak out her words weakly. She couldn't stand feeling so helpless to her own, unwarranted feelings.

Before she knew it, Lancers hand gripped the branch right next to her leg. Flinching in surprise, she hadn't been paying attention as he made his way closer to her. Watching his arms flex as he brought the rest of his torso above the branch, Charlotte was entranced. Shaking her head, she shooed away her pesky entrancement. She was being so weak right now!

"You're right," Lancer grunted as he slung a leg onto the branch, bringing the rest of his body beside Charlotte, "it's much more interesting in the tree, rather than just looking up at it."

His innocent smile allowed Charlotte a moment of comfort, and she felt herself easing up. How could it be that he could cause her such distress, and then calm it in a moment's notice? If he could help it, she would blame him, but that was just it. He didn't ask for any of this; just like in his legend…

Charlotte thought back to all the stories she read of Diarmuid Ua Duibhne- how the enchantment below his eye brought him so much suffering and misunderstanding. She wondered if anyone ever even had the chance to love him for who he was, rather than just finding themselves trapped in the charm spell.

"There you go again," Lancer spoke in a somber tone, "making such troubled faces again."

Looking up at him, Charlotte's eyes widened at his observation. Was she making it so obvious? All she could do was inconvenience him with worry. She couldn't allow him to feel as if it was his fault.

"It can't be helped, it's a lot of pressure representing the royal family."

She wasn't lying completely; her responsibility was also a large source of stress. Still, the weight of her responsibility was something she had been expecting since she was very young. Falling head-over-heels in fabricated love, was something she could have never prepared for.

"I suppose that's true." Lancer looked through a space between the thick green of the leaves, and off into the distance.

For now it seems he bought her ploy, and the two sat in silence for a while. Her mind blank, Charlotte was finally able to find some rest from her troubling thoughts. Resting her head on the tree trunk, shadows from the leaves swayed across her resting frame in an array of shapes and figures.

"Master Charlotte…why me?"

Lancer broke the silence, forcing Charlotte to open her eyes, and turn her head in his direction. Blinking a few times, she looked at him intently, not quite understanding the question. Noticing her confusion, Lancer began to elaborate.

"I mean, why did you pick me?" He started up again, this time, looking deep into his master's eyes. "I can't help but wonder that…"

"W-why you ask?" Charlotte's eyes darted around, feeling shy under his gaze.

Lancer said nothing, but continued to watch her carefully with a serious look upon his face.

"W-well, I admire honesty and honor above all else," Charlotte twiddled her index fingers together, looking down with a slight tint of pink to her cheeks, "and when I was presented with all of the artifacts I could choose from, your legend stuck with me the most."

"And if you've read my legend, you chose me despite this mark on my face?"

A twinge of fear caused a tingling sensation to creep up Charlotte's spine. It was almost as if he had been reading her thoughts from not too long ago. Did servants and masters share that kind of connection, and she just wasn't aware? Clenching her fists at her sides, Charlotte suddenly felt a wave of bravery come over her.

"Of course I did," Charlotte frowned, forcing herself to return eye contact, "that's not something you could have helped!"

This time, it was Lancer's turn to be caught off guard by Charlotte's words. Flinching at her sudden fit of courage, he studied her visage of any sign that there was sincerity in her words. Now he understood what made Charlotte Albin's daughter. Her eyes could emit the same intensity if given the right situation. There was no doubt in his mind that she meant every word.

"Please don't ever worry yourself over something like that," Charlotte's voice softened once again, and she looked down at her swinging legs, "that mark doesn't change how I really feel in the least."

Forcing a reassuring smile, Lancer was comforted by her words and pressed a hand to his forehead.

"You have no idea… how glad that makes me feel, Lady Charlotte."

Looking at his face now, it was a mix of pain, fear, and relief all at once. She knew he was recalling all the times that the mark upon his face caused him turmoil. Seeing that glimmer of hope just a few of her words could give, Charlotte tightened her fist around her silver, key necklace once again.

It was from that moment that she decided, if Lancer was to bear the physical pain of battle, she could battle the pain of denying herself her desire for him. Even if it killed her on the inside, she would never betray her servant with the burden of her love.


End file.
